Recently, when I binge-watched Amazon Prime’s- ‘Modern Love’, I was not only surprised to learn how solemnly the art of love was portrayed in it, but also how rom-com genres have unequivocally become a major part of my excitement these days, replacing all the other categories in my watchlist. The series mainly expressed the joys and tribulations involved while navigating a relationship, with each episode depicting unique stories procured from the New York Times- ‘Modern Love’ column. (Well, I also wish to recommend all the readers who are currently hapless in love to watch it after reading this, before you head away from this page or become traumatic on learning the theme of this article. There is still a ray of hope:).
Cut to a phase in 2017, when I was a full-fledged introvert, who kept things to myself, chronically single with such a pathetic social life that if I were to choose between spending more than five minutes with a person or jumping off a cliff, I would’ve definitely preferred the latter.
Neither too happy nor too sad. Turning red or green was way out of my league. Casting love spells or charms was never my cup of tea. Growing up, I never understood how it felt to be loved or in that case, love anyone else too. My idea of Valentine’s back then was nothing but a scrutinization day for all the singles out there and nothing special. What is with all the exaggerated and profound emotions? What is with all those sheddings of psychic tears after losing your loved one? Maybe it was my inability to love someone, I wondered.
But little did I know my perception was about to change when I happened to meet the ‘special one’.
Nothing seemed to be congenial between both of us initially. Be it our personalities, our taste in music or food, our political opinions, all of them were poles apart, thus complying with the classic adage of “opposites attract”. But it was our mutual hatred towards the Professor, who punished us frequently for being late to his early morning lecture which helped in sparking off a conversation between us. Well, it wasn’t an overnight thing or “love at first sight” sorts, but surfaced as a slow crescendo. Surprisingly, it went on to be the most memorable days of my life. And gradually, we embarked on a new journey. A journey of revelation. Of how we could speak or laugh tirelessly for hours. Of how we were gruntled to finally have someone to hold our back, during our lows. Of how we could speak our hearts out without being judged. Of how we could trust someone with our baggage of emotions. Not to miss, how flirtatious we turned out to be, which upon listening ‘Cupid himself would blush’ and how both of us craved to have met earlier in our lives.
The journey isn’t smooth. There are stormy days.
There are instances when we quarrel over petty things. There are days when we go without talking. There are moments when our ego hits the peak. Curled up in the bed, swiping through all the good memories, expecting the other one to apologize first. Yet, the best part of it, is the warmth of the shining sun after the perilous storms. I for one, believe that all those reconciliations have just made our bond stronger, made us experience how frightening it is, just to even think of losing our loved ones.
All of this, just to fill the page, but here I am.
To express my sheer gratitude.
For your mere existence.
For the weird bond we share.
For embracing me the way I am.
For opting to be my close confidant.
For all the therapeutic TED Talks.
For all the spot-on critiques. (I wouldn’t be surprised if a refined version of this article makes it to the final cut).
For all the spontaneous jokes which crack me up.
And for all the little moments of ours, which have gone unnoticed.
(But most importantly, for saving me from the 2020 snooze-fest.)